You know when you’re on the subway

Trying to discern your hawthorn

From your heliotrope, let’s say;

And suddenly—you weren’t forewarned—

This woman sits right next to you,

Blasting whiffs of thick, sweet gourmand.

Fruity, nutty, vanilla… phew.

Of such things, how can one be fond?

Alas, vox populi hath said

That cheap perfumes of sales do boast.

As far as taste, don’t be misled:

There is no true “one spritz fits most!”